Balen
I don’t want to let her go, but I have to. The explosions, the chaos of my people trying to put the fires out, and Skye clinging to me as if she wouldn’t see me again. It’s going to be another week or two, now that this has happened. I ache for her and long for the gratifying taste of her essence. With her, nothing and no one else matters. As she strokes the back of my neck in an attempt to make me stay, I almost give in but know that I can’t. With every ounce of will that I have and an agitated growl, I’m able to pull away from the hold that she has on me. Looking into her eyes as she holds onto my hand, I see what she does not say. She loves me, and I love her. This earth woman who without a doubt will lose her life if I give her my seed.
She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s courting death.
I make my way over to the warehouse, which is now smoldering. Upon entering the building, I’m greeted by an overwhelming smell of burned wood. Watching as inventory’s being taken by Akon, the leader of the colony, I use my telepathy to communicate with him. “How much did we lose?”
Continuing his work, his outward appearance never shows any acknowledgment. “The blood supply took a great loss,” he responds.
In a flash I’m in front of the blood supply building. It’s a burned hull of its former self.
“We managed to save most of it, and we’ll have to begin rebuilding,” Akon explains from beside me, still writing in his inventory book with speed.
“This is the third time in the last six months, and it has to be the dragons,” I accuse, with a note of anger in my voice. They’re the only ones capable of getting past our security—the only ones with the power of concealment, not able to be seen physically, mentally, or via their energy. There’s an age-old war between the lizards and my people. I fear we shall never have peace until the entire species has been eliminated. “The cowards!”
Akon stops my rant with a hand on my arm. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but I must ask that you follow protocol, Prince Balen. You’re not excluded from the rules.”
I know that he can smell her on me. We’re an open book to each other. There are no secrets among us. My thoughts drift back to the few stolen moments with her, and then to the day that I met her in a taproom. On the hunt for a meal, her scent overpowered everyone’s upon my entrance. Her gaze locked with mine, and she dropped her drink and took flight. She’d locked herself in the ladies’ room and refused to come out. After much reassuring and a threat to tear the door down, she eventually came out brandishing a knife. I find humor in it every time that I think about it, as I did that day.
Flustered and full well knowing that the knife would do her no good if I wanted to drink from her, she still attempted to attack me. Instead, she ended up locked in my embrace for longer than I wanted her to be. As I endeavored to calm her, her blood begged me to take it all in, to not leave a drop. In trying to not succumb to the blood lust, I ended up holding her too tightly, and she lost consciousness. Upon taking her to my room for the night, she awoke a madwoman, throwing everything within her reach at me. It didn’t take much to subdue her, my body pinning her to the bed. She accused me of trying to take her life. She was unreadable. How was I to know that her struggles meant that she couldn’t breathe? I explained that I was captivated, as I was now, by her scent, her blood calling to me once again. Inhaling her scent deeply only served to feed the need to drain her dry.
It was abruptly put on hold when I felt her intrusion upon my thoughts. Leaning in close, I inhaled her scent again, to make sure that I had scented her correctly. Her blood smelled of Centaurian and human. She was a half breed. In an instant, the link was broken and the fire in her eyes dimmed. Touching my face, my curiosity peaked, I made another attempt at reaching into her thoughts and failed. Turning her face from mine, she granted me permission to drink. I accepted, taking her scent in again.
My thirst nearly consuming me, I drank my fill. The taste of her blood wasn’t like any I’d consumed before. Something in it was habit-forming and addictive. From that night she became my chosen mate, and since she can’t come to Centauria and I can’t stay here on Earth, I will divide my time between the two. The end of my term on Earth is drawing near, and so I will give her a child to occupy her time until my return.
“You should allow the men a reprieve,” I state, coming out of my reverie.
“In the time of war, there can be no distractions,” he counters.
Rylan’s claim that Skye’s his mate comes to mind. I’ve never doubted her fidelity, but she’s only my chosen mate. If he’s her true mate, then there’s nothing that I can do to keep them apart. The attraction will be too great, and eventually, he will claim her, but not before I do.
“Yes, but I must insist,” I say, matter-of-factly. He regards me with a neutral countenance, and in a blink, he’s gone. He may be the leader of the colony, but I am his prince, and he must do as I request.
Watching the women’s housing past the woods, Skye’s window is illuminated. Using my telepathy, I speak to her. “Come to the window.” She doesn’t respond, and after a minute or so I become agitated. I know that I’ve made contact with her. “Skye.”
Her silhouette can be seen behind the blinds. “What?” she demands back.
“I wanted to know that you’re safe.” She remains quiet, and I can’t help but smile. She’s angry with me, and that is an understatement. “Lift the blinds, please.”
There’s a long pause before she responds. “Goodnight, Balen.”
I can hear the pain in her voiceless words. This earth woman is going to be the death of me.
